Chapter 2: Chapter 2: The Locker, Part 1

Present, August 12th,

Cianne's (Cy*anne) steps faltered as she entered the main doors of her high school. As she focused on the image in the mirrored trophy case in the entrance foyer, she realized the grotesque sight reflected in the mirror was her.

An unnerving feeling tugged at Cianne as she walked through the main doors of West Hills High school. Last night's nightmare was still fresh in her mind. She swallowed the lump in her throat and averted her eyes when she passed the trophy case and moved toward the busy hallway that led to her locker.

Remaining calm was her top priority because. . .if she lost her composure, bad things could happen, so Cianne immediately changed the direction of her thoughts. Instead of focusing on the dream, she hummed a tune in her head. Only, that did little to distract her. Her nightmares always nourished the seeds of her fears, and those fears were branching out just like. . .

Cianne took a small step toward the mirrored trophy case, then another. She could hear the whispers of those who gathered around her, but it didn't distract her from the image. It was her, only her veins were as black as coal and very visible just beneath her paper thin, pale skin as they branched outward. That image, in itself, was enough to warrant fear, but the vision of the blood red eyes that hauntingly looked back at her could have easily evoked madness.

There was something different about last night's nightmare that made her skin crawl. He had been there.

Stress and the constant fear of being discovered were things Cianne had to live with every day, but she usually kept them under control. Albeit, a shaky form of control. Her only solace was in thinking that as long as she didn't allow herself to get distracted or involved, everything would be alright.

*Everything will be fine.*

Cianne continued through the hall, avoiding other students and faculty as she went. She kept her head low as she walked. When she reached her locker, she let out a sigh of relief.

*No distractions. No complications.*

She started chanting those two phrases to an upbeat tune in her head when an intoxicating fragrance brought her mantra to a halt. The scent circulated around her like an invisible smoke cloud.

Cianne closed her eyes as she slid closer to her locker. She inhaled the scent that was as familiar to her as her own, allowing herself to enjoy the clean pleasurable aroma that never failed to announce his presence.

She gave in to temptation and sniffed the air again, then opened her eyes and quickened her pace of taking what she needed from her locker. Tristan Bertram was the one person in the entire world who was capable of distracting her, so she needed to be gone before he spoke to her.

Grabbing a couple of thin binders out of her locker, Cianne then dug into her bag and pulled out a folder she didn't need, and placed it inside. As she did, her attention was drawn to the bottom of her locker, where she spotted the book she needed under a pile of loose papers. Cianne crouched down, pulled the book out, and placed it inside her shoulder bag then stuffed the loose papers that spilled out onto the floor back inside her locker.

Before she pushed the metal door closed, she fumbled inside her bag for her cell phone. It only took her a moment to discover that it wasn't in her bag. Cianne patted the pockets of her fitted jeans only to come up empty.

"Where is it?" she asked herself, as she lifted and shuffled the cluttered chaos inside her locker. "Really?" she hissed as she stood.

Cianne smoothed her palm up over her forehead and down the back of her head until it rested on the nape of her neck, pinning her hair to her bare skin. She looked up at the ceiling and did a mental review of her morning in an attempt to remember where she saw her phone last.

It was on the kitchen table this morning when she ate breakfast. Right in the middle of enjoying her eggs and toast, she was responding to a text message when she experienced a vision.

Visions had a way of disrupting her day. Not because her visions were painful, because they didn't have to be. It was because her visions were preceded by a physical change.

In a way, she appreciated the physical changes that occurred before her visions. One would argue that she should be grateful for those fleeting moments just before the revelation of someone's pending misfortune was thrust upon her. She knew that if anyone witnessed her freak show warning signs, her life would be a series of needle pricks, lab tests, and doctors. But being helpless while in the throes of one of her ghastly visions was even worse. The visions could last from a few seconds up to twenty minutes or more. So, those little physical "alarms" gave her a chance to get to safety before the visions started.

*Where is my cell phone?*

"Are you looking for this?" Tristan's scent, diluted by the space between them before, was closer and was much more concentrated.

Cianne stilled as the sound of his voice vibrated through her, warming her in ways that caused her to blush. Annoyed, she grimaced at her reaction to Tristan before turning around to face him.

Tristan, in all his glory, stood directly in front of her, mere inches away. Their eyes met and

*Sadness, pain, death.*

The words were just a whisper in her mind now, but still, she heard them loud and clear. Cianne dismissed the three words she heard following every first look into his eyes, as usual. She lowered her eyes before they revealed how he made her feel. What she didn't consider was her eyes settling on his lips.

Not his lips, she thought as she moved her gaze to his chest.

Worse idea ever. Why not go for the gold and drop your gaze further south, Cianne, she taunted herself. The thought had her eyes twitching with anticipation.

*No!* Cianne cringed, deciding his eyes were her best option.

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